The Beautiful and The Damned
by lieutenantcardinal
Summary: Meet Link, a 15 year old assassin for hire. Alone since the supposed death of his brother, the Chosen Hero, Link struggles to keep himself afloat. After saving a mysterious being who fell from the sky, he is determined to find out the truth of what really happened to his brother, and who is the true Hero of the Goddess. /Au, obviously. possible zelink or ghiralink/
1. Chapter 1

It was a scarf.

An elegant, onyx scarf made from windflower silk, with stunning electric blue runes woven within. It was light and cool in his hands; fingering the soft folds felt like dipping his hands in water.

"It's for you, Link." His brother smiled down upon him, and ruffled his golden-brown hair. Link gave a toothy smile and enveloped him in a teddy bear hug. He buried his face in the mudstained tunic. _Cookies, soil, and happiness, _that was his brother smelled like. Link felt a snug kiss being pressed onto his forehead.

"Thank you. I love it." Link was overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling, like swallowing a sip of hot chocolate and feeling it spread throughout your body. He tightened his embrace. This felt like the last time his brother would hold him, but he supposed every hug felt like the last hug when his brother was so often away.

"Here. Why don't you put it in this box so it wouldn't get dirty? Also," His brother grabbed the wooden case and carefully folded the scarf. "it's really expensive, so don't just leave it outside or something."

"Are the runes magic?" Link asked, eyes wide in curious wonder and sweet innocence. He mushed the box against his chest, as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

His brother laughed softly. "Yes, the runes are sacred, but magic isn't real, Link."

The boy's eyes lowered in disappointment. "But you work at the temple. The priests can heal you with magic phrases." His brother's grip suddenly tightened at the mention of his work. The teenager turned away, so that the young boy would not see the cold scorn on his face.

"All they do is pray, Link. That's not magic. Miracles and magic no longer exist in this world."

Link cocked his head in disbelief. "But you used to say goodness creates magic. The priests are kind and noble, so they _must _have magic?"

His brother shifted and lowered his face till they were inches apart. "Remember this, brother." His breathing quickened and he seized Link's shoulders with trembling hands. "Reality is harsh and cruel, more than you expect. If you want anything done, you've got to do it yourself."

His grip on Link's shoulder was steely, and the young brother winced in pain. "L-lore, you're scaring me."

"_Do you understand me, Link?" _ Lore whispered-screamed, and a tinge of desperation crept into his tone. It was something Link had never heard before.

"I understand." Link said, prying his brother's cold hands off his body. Lore shot him a look.

"Okay, I promise I will never forget. I will hang it on my bedroom wall. I will chant it every morning with my prayers." Link swore; glad to see his brother looking satisfied.

Lore gave him a soft smile, now back to his old laidback self. A delicate summer's breeze swept through their picnic spot. Link opened their basket of homemade cooking, taking an appreciative inhale of spices, herbs, and the scent of fresh picked flowers.

Aside from his brother's strange never before seen outburst, Link's day couldn't be better.

Lore smiled warmly down at him, handing him a slice of pie. "Look! Blessed Butterflies! Why don't you go catch some, Link? They make wishes come true." He said warmly, pointing at a sunny spot near the waterfall.

Without further ado, the young boy ran off laughing happily with his little bug net, leaving Lore sitting alone.

He gazed at Link fondly, chuckling when the boy managed to slip and fall into the water. Crimson birds chirped cheerfully, and a squirrel scurried across an oak branch.

_Such a peaceful life, my brother lives. _

Forking a mouthful of cherry pie in his mouth, Lore watched him with a heavy heart. _ This is what I fight to protect. _

_But what will happen when I am gone? _What if one day, in some accident or another, Lore died and Link was left alone? Every job in their little village was taken, and the shopkeeper will kick him out on the streets if Lore did not pay the fee.

_Perhaps the other citizens will take him in, to repay the debts they owed his parents. _

The residents despised Lore for his profession, but loved Link dearly.

Lore dug into his cloth bag and pulled out an ornamented note. He smoothened the fine paper and read, for the hundredth time, what was to be his fate.

_Lore Wanderlust, _

_the working boy at the South Wall has mysteriously disappeared. _

_You have been transferred to substitute his position. _

The formal required script was short and informative, but there was a hurriedly written passage on the back.

_Lore. I sincerely apologize for being so sudden. I hope you realize what your transfer means; the council was convinced that you were the most capable candidate available, and I could not convince them otherwise. They said that you were strong, young, and responsible, traits that are undeniable with how you fast you've been promoting. Why did you not follow my advice?! Obeying would have saved you. Enjoy your leave this time, for it is final. _

– _Ronei Blazuabus _

_P.S. I will miss you dearly, my little rabbit. _

The ink was stained in messy splotches, the imprint of his anguish when he first read the note.

Lore shuddered in icy disgust and burning fury.

How dare that filthy rich shit of a man assume he knew what it was like to be desperate?! How dare he write a note ridiculing him for being promoted?! It was salt in the wound. No, it was more than fucking salt. It was being dunked in potent acid after being beaten half to death.

Becoming head in a period of one year had drawn attention to himself, but it earned good money and kept his loved ones safe. Sweeping the yard, his first job, only earned a fraction of his current wage.

_But now, because of my greed, everything is falling apart. _

Being posted at the South Wall was a death sentence. As if he was stuck in a record, Lore started reading his doom letter again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

By the time Link came bounding back, Lore had memorized every line twice over, and his palms were moist with nerves. He could spot ashen clouds approaching on the far distance.

"Link, a storm is coming. We must go home." He had already packed the equipment, and now had the basket dangling from one arm. Link nodded and trailed after him as he followed the track out of the woods.

Unbeknownst to both, slitted gold eyes followed their every movement.

* * *

A/N: hello! thank you for clicking on my little fic here in the zelda fandom xD Yes, it's inspired by the new zelda game E3 trailer, where Link has long hair and looks like a BADASS. I try to update once in 10 days, so stick around! :) Read and Review pls


	2. Chapter 2

**10**

The sun rose like a glowing orb of liquid fire, painting the dawning sky in exquisite shades of vermillion. Lore swung his bag over one shoulder as he led the horse away from the stable. Trees hung over the path, their emerald leaves rustling in the light breeze. It was nearing the middle of summer, but any traveler passing by would surely mistake it for spring. Bright flowers grew like explosions of color on a deep green field, and the air held the scent of fresh and beautiful things.

"When are you coming back again?" Link stood alone in the grassy field at the town entrance, looking all the more miserable watching his only family leave.

Lore bit his lip. Seeing Link cry was a heartbreaking sight. _I'm sorry. I'm never coming back. _

His brother shot himself at him with a muffled sob, and wrapped his teensy arms around Lore's torso - _argh, heavy _"Link, I have to go."

"I know. I don't want you to leave again." Tiny drops of crystal tears escaped his doleful eyes. Lore sighed, his conscious heavy with what he was about to do.

"I'll come back, Link." _I am a liar. _"You just have to wait a few weeks or so." Lore smiled at him with watery eyes. It ripped his heart to tell such a blatant lie, especially when this might be the last time they meet.

Pulling his brother into one last, tight embrace, he buried his nose in the mess of golden brown hair. "Don't forget, I love you." He mumbled. _At least my last words with him was honest. This is for your own good, Link. _

Lore then reluctantly pulled away from the hug's warmth, and climbed onto the saddle. _The townsfolk will care for him, they love him. _

Spurring the horse into action, he looked over his shoulder. Link was on his knees, sniveling and staring after the horse longingly. Lore tore his gaze away from the sight. _Too late now._

* * *

**12**

Link's bones felt like stretched rubber. Exhaustion radiated from his very being, released in waves of painful groans and agonized expressions.

"Alright. You're done for the day." The master said, gesturing for him to stop. Link slowed to a stop, and then collapsed onto the ground in a sweaty heap. _We ran across half the county…._ And yet the master hasn't sweated a drop. _How is that even possible? Is he human? _Link thought, before closing his eyes. _I'm…..so… . . sleepy_

* * *

**14 **

_Happy birthday to me…_ Link gazed blankly at the small custard pie he barely managed to pay for. Silent loneliness pervaded the room. It was etched into the very walls, locking the windows shut, barring the fourteen year old's heart shut with a frozen chill.

* * *

**15**

"Hey, girly!" A rough hand seized at his hair, yanking his head to the side. Link was surrounded. _Again. _

One of the boys shoved him to the ground. Link's cheap hair tie had loosened, splaying his slightly long hair everywhere. He elbowed one of his assailants, but the other still had a grip in his hair. It was wrenched backwards roughly, almost tearing off his scalp. Brutish faces leered down at him.

"Che. You have a prettier face than my sister." One of the boys, the one that Link liked to call 'Fatty', said.

Fatty leaned in, his sweet candy breath making Link cringe, "My sister is the prettiest, get it?" _I don't care about your ugly ass sister, ugh. _Link thought, writhing in the harsh grip.

Despite being like what, 15? 16 years old, he still had a frustrating small frame compared to these thuggish fools around him. A simple bro hug from these jerks felt like an iron punch. An actual punch from them must feel like an ox cart crash.

_Masquerading as a village boy might've been a bad idea. _ He should've gone with crossdressing, the pretty girls don't get slapped around. But of course, he had his masculine pride.

One of the thugs struck his face. "Hey, ya sure he's actually a lad?" Link growled. _Hit me one more time and I will tear off your testes and cook it in your mother's stew. _

They hit him one more time.

Link thrashed out his booted feet, lashing out at the boy behind him, not even flinching as strands of his golden hair was torn out of his scalp. Jerking to the side to dodge a blow, he elbowed Fatty and struck the next in a well placed thrust.

_Target spotted. _

A young man in a tailored suit– _probably silk _-was casually leaning on one side of the open stall booth. He stuck out like a sore thumb among the rough clothing and filthy mud of the mundane farmfolk.

With trained eyes, Link spotted the documents peeking out of his emerald waistcoat, probably tucked in there hurriedly.

The idiots lying around the assassin were starting to stir, so Link stood up to pick up his fallen possessions. _Ugh, thank god this place is somewhat secluded. The master would kill me if I caused a commotion. _

As he left the alley, he made sure to step harshly on their heads, smiling cruelly when he heard a nose crack. Keeping an eye on the target, Link subtly followed him through the market crowd, stopping every so often to pretend to look at the fruits. The man was heading towards a well-known inn, one of the better ones in town.

He will have to wait it out for the perfect moment. Link reached into the leather bag strapped to his shoulder, pulling out a deep black cloak-scarf hybrid. It was woven with electric blue runes. _Brother… _

He pulled it up into a hood, and chose a high vantage point to await his target. Looking down from the tower the teeming mass of humanity seemed small, no more than ants crawling in organized chaos.

The target was most likely going in for a nice dinner before retiring for the night. Even though the sun had just begun to set, Link could already see the stars. The setting sunlight rippled from shocking pink to rich purple to navy blue, painting the sky in splashes of splendor. Below, the crowd has mostly dispersed, and the street candles were being lit. Up where Link was, the silence reigned like a cooling touch. The deceptive quietness blanketed the beating of his heart, his fingers tracing the fine design of the deadly bow.

It was always like this before a kill. There was always that heart thumping, terrifying moment of absolute stillness. His thick framed eyes lowered, trailing down the old brick buildings.

It was near the mid of night when the man again stepped out onto the cobbled pavement. Illuminated by the soft glow of candle streetlight, the target swayed slightly. _Intoxicated._ Link squinted; he could see a small dreamy smile curved on his face. _A sleepy drunk? _

Link could see the dark patches in the town where the streetcandles had not been lighted or had been blown by the wind. He waited for his target to enter those places, his body as tense as his bow.

Link notched his bow. The target stopped to rest near a lamppost.

He drew the arrow, aiming. The target stopped moving, as if he sensed the impending danger.

Link inhaled, aiming for the heart.

He released.

* * *

A/N: Hey! Sorry this update's a bit late :P I promise that it'll get more exciting soon. Also, please read and review! It would be the most perfect birthday present :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was a nice job, clean and fast. Link climbed down from the tower afterwards, retrieving the documents and disposing of the body.

Having skipped lunch and dinner,-_no eating before a kill_\- Link was starving. His body, trained to silence, felt like it had been pulled through a roller. Link's stomach growled quietly. Boots crunching on the fallen autumn leaves, Link allowed himself a moment to relax.

The skies glittered with a thousand stars, as visible as dusty snow. Link spotted a shooting star. He sat back to enjoy the magnificence of the flashing lights.

Tracing the trail with his eyes, he frowned. Was the star…falling?! Link started walking faster, his eyes glued to the star.

The light dropped down the sky slowly, disappearing behind the tall woods. Link could feel the soft, barely noticeable vibration from the strangely quiet landing. A meteor? Morbid curiosity beckoned him in the star's direction.

With footsteps silent as a fox, he approached the area in a fast walk, then speeded to a full blown run. His breath came out in a smoking fog, warm in the cold fall air. He could see a speck of something white inside the shallow crater. White and, - _moving_?

Link shifted forward with caution, deliberately crouching to peer at the object from behind a clump of bushes. He saw movement. It was a finger, paperwhite and grasping weakly at empty air. Like a hairthin twig in a summer storm, the trembling hand struggled to stay level, reaching for something Link could not see. He heard choked animal sound. _…Is that a person?_

He approached carefully, hands on his bow and heart in his throat. The figure was stirring. It seemed to be trying to speak, but its voice croaked on dryness and set Link's teeth on edge.

There was something unnatural happening.

"Hoa….hel…" It laid on its front, face in the ground. The words were muffled in the mud. "Masyer..preasw" The creature did not seem to notice Link poking its body with a stick, and gave no indication of being aware of its surrounding.

Link squatted on his knees, prying the creature's face from the sticky mud. Clutching its pale shoulders, he rolled it face up.

"Holy….." _He's beautiful. _Thick silver eyelashes rested on frigid high cheekbones, glistening in the moonlight. Its ashen lips move in a never-ending chant, in strange languages that Link had never heard. He gazed at the stunningly ethereal features, unconsciously lowering his face closer to the being. As if drawn by a magnet, his lips parted, his eyelashes lowered, their noses were almost touching.

Suddenly, its eyes snapped open. Link startled, swearing and scooting backwards into the dirt. The molten gold eyes glowed at him in the semi-darkness. _Totally disturbing._

"…Skychild?" It said to Link, turning to stare at him with blown pupils. _His eyes look…..high. And, skychild? Is he an angel? On drugs? The goddess wouldn't approve…_

"A-are you an angel?" Link stammered. Those eyes pinned him to the earth. He froze like a tree rooted to the ground-still with terror. The creature certainly _looked _similar to those paintings in the temples, but there was something…._different _about it. It was beautiful in a dangerous, toe curling way. Like the beauty of a razorsharp knife, lustrous in the sun as it dropped upon your neck and splattered your world crimson, the agony bloomin- Link shuddered.

The faint blush of fever painted the creature's face. "It's been so long…Do you still remember me?"

Link shook his head, deciding that the creature was delirious with fatigue and was blabbing nonsense. Touched by a bout of charity—or insanity—he opted against just leaving it in the ditch for nature. It must be the strange guilt he always carried after a completed mission. Link prepared for the arduous task of carrying/dragging it home. If the being wasn't an angel sent by the goddess, he could just sell it off to some priests for research.

"C'mon. Let's get you warmed up and clean."

* * *

It was dark and filthy and she couldn't believe her vainglorious brother could stand to live in a place like this. Damp muck stuck to the floor, smelling like a putrid mix of rotten egg and buckets of waste.

Frustrated, she kicked an old metal can, watching as it rolled pathetically on the debris. Where was he? So many nights, days, bloody months, she spent searching far and wide. But even the most talented tracker wouldn't be able to find him.

It was as if he had just disappeared, without a trace. The only thing she was sure of was that he wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

Sometimes she wasn't even sure he was mortal.

She didn't care is she had to slog him back by his hair, that idiot was _not _leaving her to please the master alone.

They were created together, and she would make certain that they died together.

* * *

Link awoke to the sounds of cooking and a trilling kettle. Groaning, he pushed himself off the mattress. Pillows and the blanket were lying on the floor, having fallen off the bed from his nightly thrashing.

His bed was located on the high wooden mini-floor, raised above his kitchen and living space. It was designed like a swaying platform attached to the ceiling by sturdy metal chains. The only way to get on or off was a brass ladder was fastened on the very edge.

Link peered down below.

A pale and—really, really, tall–figure was standing at his fire stove, cooking what smelled like eggs and herb tea. Its lengthy snowy hair tangled on the floor. Link wondered how many decades it took to grow hair that long.

With a rumbling tummy,—_supper was a pack of dry biscuits and a fermented carrot –_he climbed off his bed and headed down the ladder.

The humanoid creature—_angel thing—_ignored him and continued cooking, humming a strangely familiar tune. When he reached the ground floor, Link cautiously tip toed to his sword and held on tight as he approached the figure warily.

"Uh…Good morning?" Link said cagily, trying his best to look normal as the figure turned around. What he didn't anticipate, though, was the fact that its long hair covered most of its body from behind. From the front, however…..

_This thing needs clothes. _

The pale man-angel thing was stark naked, and Link could feel his eyes drifting down, down down…

Whatever speech or monologue he had prepared about house rules or the origin of the creature fled his mind immediately, leaving him gaping like a fish in front of the ethereal being. It was still holding a wooden spoon; head cocked to side, regarding Link questioningly.

"Greetings, human." Link jerked his gaze up, face burning. _Oh my god the thing can talk. _

"Urm.. ah… Would you like something to wear?" Link focused his eyes on the creature's pale forehead. _Wow that's a very smooth forehead, so wrinkle-free. I just have to focus on not thinking about its dic-shiiiiit. _

"Garments would be fabulous, thank you." It said, turning back around nonchalantly to continue cooking. Link left the room to look for his old trunk filled with clothing. He was fairly sure that nothing he had would fit the being, but ill-fitting clothes were still better than no clothes at all.

After handing it his loosest tunic—the creature had broader shoulders—Link averted his glance as it dressed.

"So uh, what exactly are you?" He mumbled, staring at the wood floor. There were sounds of rustling cloth.

"Humans call my kind, 'demons', though you could also call me a spirit. In fact, I would much prefer that title."

"Do you- uh, have a name?" He heard the buckling of a leather belt.

"I fear that memory has escaped my clutches. I recall nothing before awakening in your basement this morning."

Link gulped. _That basement was locked and reinforced with spell wards….._

"Sorry about that. There wasn't any space left…" _And I was kind of hoping that you would die in there with the fever you had…._

Link turned around to face the demon. It looked so strange to see such an elegant creature wear his ratty old and so very ordinary clothes. He would have expected him to wear silks, or some fantastical tailored outfit.

"Ghir. Ghira…" The demon murmured. "Ghira-something, I believe."

"Ghira? Your name is Ghira?"Link said. _What an exotic name. _"It suits you well."

Ghira tossed his hair off of one bare shoulder. It seemed like the torso was too tight, so he had opted to wear only the pants and boots. The townspeople are going to freak when they see him shirtless.

His house was by the outskirts of the forest, farther away from the hustle and bustle of everyday citizens. Few people ever passed the trail that led to his home, and fewer people ever travelled deep enough to reach him.

"Ghira, stay inside until you're feeling better. I don't think you're feeling quite well yet." The demon glared at him when he said that.

"I don't want you where people can see. You're too weird-looking to go outside." Link continued without thinking. Ghira's face darkened. The room temperature plummeted.

"What….did you just say?" If looks could kill, Link would be dead. The first trace of demonic power escaped, and Link backed away slowly. Ghira threw dramatically his hands into the air; his pose straightened.

"The worm in the earth, this piece of dust beneath my heels, dares say that my being is anything less than perfect?!" The demon made threatening gestures with his hands, as if he was strangling some poor invisible boy. He advanced on Link.

"Hey! Back off!" Link shoved at him when he got too close. "You should be grateful I saved you from that ditch, you egoistical brute. I could've left you to die."

Fury roiled off of Ghira in toxic waves, almost knocking him over with the intensity.

Link drew his sword. Ghira growled menacingly.

"Do not, measly pest, think that I am harmless because of my head trauma; do not dare _imagine, _in that tiny insect skull of yours, that you will _ever _have to right to _order _me around."

Link blinked, and found himself face to face with the livid demon. He was so close their noses were almost touching; his eyes bored smoking holes into Link's soul.

"I only bow to one man, and even though I don't remember who it was, it is most definitely, not _you._"

"That doesn't change the fact that I saved your life!" Link snarled, fighting against his fear. He pointed the sword at Ghira's chin.

A burning smell wafted between the two of them, and Link realized the eggs were burning. Ghira ignored the pointy blade beneath his face and snapped his fingers, turning off the stove without even blinking.

Link gasped. _Magic?! _

Unconsciously, his sword lowered. "You can do magic?" It might've been his imagination, but it looked like the menace in Ghira's eyes lessened. Link was certain there was an expression of absolute terror and amazement on his face.

"Magic? That is child's play." Ghira looked down on him from between his snowy demon eyelashes, and smiled coldly.

"There are leagues between us in terms of power. Had I wished you dead, you're remains would already have been fed to the dogs, their shit thrown into the ocean for sea scum to consume."

Link was shocked into silence at the creativity of his imagined death, and then looked down in defeat. "Ghira, just back off. Please."

The demon looked surprised for a second, then sniffed at him and returned to cooking. _Why the hell is he cooking if he can just do it with magic? _

Heavenly scents of melted butter filled his house, and the sounds of fizzling oil occupied the awkward silence between them. It was Link's time off from missions, so he was free the entire day. Settling himself into an old comfy armchair, he watched Ghira work.

The demon was graceful, and much swifter than a human could ever be. He worked with what seemed like a purposeful enjoyment. He started humming.

_That tune is….strangely familiar. _

Without realizing, Link began to softly whistle the melody. It was a beautiful ballad, the harmony of the two sounding oddly comforting.

"Do you know the song, skychild?" Link shook his head. "Me neither. It just happened to be stuck in my head." Ghira said.

"Why do you call me skychild?" Link asked, getting up to retrieve some plates. Ghira shrugged in response. Demon and teenager set the table together, the past argument seemingly forgotten.

Link tentatively lifted the spoon of omelet near his mouth. _For god's sake a demon made this it can't taste that goo- .GODDESS. _

It was the best damn thing he'd ever tasted. Ghira had layered egg, cheese, and ham, complete with a cream and gravy sauce artistically blended as filling. Mushrooms (his favorite!) were arranged on the side, with their own dipping.

A glass of milk was placed beside him. _milk? I'm not 10 anymore…._

"Skychild, I think we might've known each other." Ghira's plate was untouched. "My eyeballs somehow seem accustomed to seeing you."

Ghira reached over the table, touching Link's hair lightly. "Didn't your hair used to be brown?"

Link looked at him as if he was crazy. He said through a mouthful of food, "Sorry but I think you're confusing me for someone else. We've never met before last night." _But I'm willing to pretend we're best pals if it means you'll make more food for me. _

"I see. Are you almost done?" Ghira stood up from the timber chair, gazing down at Link.

"Almost. Are you going to each that?" Ghira answered no and Link proceeded to devour the demon's portion. Link couldn't remember seeing the demon eat yet, and wondered why he would bother cooking human food for himself if he couldn't eat it. _Is it some kind of hobby for him? _ _Must be. With my luck his food will end up being something like baby flesh. _

"Let's go hunting." Ghira suggested, waving at Link to follow him through the back door that lead to the woods. He was about to grab his hunting bow when Ghira stopped him.

"You can be the spectator."

* * *

Watching Ghira hunt was frankly terrifying. Flashes of what seemed like freaking magical lightning struck down squirrels with disturbing accuracy: all his prey was shot exactly through the eyes. As the demon took down victim after victim, Link was admiring the scenery.

Like most days during autumn, the sun was shining but the weather was cool. _This was Lore's favorite season…. _Link personally preferred spring; it was the most refreshing of all the seasons. However, autumn was his second favorite.

The fall leaves were always stunning with marvelous shades of gold, brown, and yellow. Like one last desperate explosion of life before their death, the leaves of fall were the most beautiful of the year.

Earlier, Link had pointed out a deer but Ghira had refused to kill it, saying "Large prey is too easy for the likes of me. Squirrels and birds are much more entertaining."

By the time Ghira fulfilled his demon blood lust, he had a waist high pile of dead small animals. Conjuring an obsidian knife, he began to methodically cut and gut each prey.

"Ghira. What will you do after this? Will your memories come back?" Link asked sitting on a tree stump and watching the blood and guts drip on the ground.

Sighing, Ghira answered "Since you have never heard of arcane beings like me, chances are that I'm a very special exception. This would make me possibly a high ranking member of society or a sorcerer."

He paced as he talked, dripping scarlet on the ground and leaving gory footprints. "However, I've discovered that there are combat techniques stored in my muscle memory, so it's more likely that I'm some kind of bodyguard to someone important."

"Oh. So you're a warrior?" Link got curious as Ghira made an affirmative noise. His frosty hair was braided and clipped up; escaped bangs hung around his face, framing his pale chin in white. Link observed the hard muscle lining the demon's lean body.

"That's awesome. Wanna spar?" Link asked.

Ghira snorted and drove his knife through a small rabbit's head. "You? Spar with me?"

Link shifted uncomfortably. The demon stood two heads above him, and was a great deal more muscular, too. Link himself spent most of his time drilling bow and sword techniques, but still had the soft slim look of baby fat and youth.

"What about it?"

"Trust me; I recall enough to disarm you with one finger. You wouldn't stand a chance."

Ghira finished gutting and cleaning the entire pile of victims, leaving a heap of bloody fresh meat on a single clean leaf. He handed the dirty knife back to Link. With bare hands, he plucked a messy chunk and put it in his mouth.

_Raw meat? _

"Don't look so sickened. It's my favorite food." Ghira said, blood painting his lips crimson. A single drop escaped and dripped down his chin. Link saw a tongue as red as dragon's breath peek out to lick the scarlet liquid from his fingers. It was an abnormally long tongue, nearly reaching his chin in length.

Link shuddered involuntarily. He realized that there were almost nothing in his appearance to give away Ghira's demonic nature. To the human eye, Ghira looked like a normal, albeit very attractive albino man with outrageously long hair.

However, there was just something about his aura…the way he moved _-like a ruthless predator-_ the chill that seemed to emanate from his very being. Ghira's simple presence disturbed and set on edge the human mind. He unnerved humans the same way a deadly cobra would a helpless mouse.

Link watched him devour the flesh with increasing nausea. The demon did not seem to mind his spectator, in fact, Link believed he had insisted on him doing nothing but viewing.

Bones were neatly deposited on the side, the pile ever so slowly growing. Ghira's hunger seemed infinite. Link wondered when was the last time the demon ate; he looked perfectly healthy, not starved at all.

_If his hunger is strong enough, would he attack humans? Is keeping him here really the most responsible thing to do…._

It wasn't. The most responsible thing to do was to write to the temple and deliver the demon to them as soon as possible. Link remembered his brother's words.

What if the priests weren't as pure as they claimed? What is the demon is used for…some other, darker intention?

No, it was much too dangerous to tell anyone of Ghira's presence.

Letters could be intercepted; the demon could escape while Link was gone. He couldn't alert anyone without risking someone's safety.

He could see that Ghira was finished, now. All that was left was a pile of bones and traces of blood everywhere. The demon looked satisfied, for the time being at least. Standing up, he gestured for Link to follow him.

"Is there a stream around here or something? I'm in need of cleaning." Ghira stated, heading down a trail that led deep into the woods. Link was fairly sure he's never been down this path before.

The demon didn't seem to mind that Link didn't answer. He just walked on, following whatever demon instincts that would apparently lead him to water.

The ground was covered with rotted leaves and the smell of cool nature was everywhere. Rays of sunlight pierced through rare holes where the abundant tree leaves didn't grow. All was silent but for the sounds of their footsteps.

_Lore would have loved it here. _

Peaceful autumn, ideal relaxation environment. There was a bend in the trail ahead, and he fell behind to wonder at the exquisite colors. Suddenly, Link heard a peculiar, keening sound. It sounded a lot like…_screaming?! _

Snapping out of his serene mood, Link whipped his head around.

"Ghira! Where are you?" He heard no answer from the thick woods.

The screaming was steadily getting louder.

The trail got narrower.

A boulder of ice dropped from his throat to his stomach as he realized–

Ghira was nowhere to be found.

* * *

A/N: hey! sorry i've been going on and off since the beginning of this story, *pfft* exam week x( Thankyou to PheonixCaptain for the most wonderful birthday present review :))))) I've been thinking about changing this fic to monthly updates with longer chapters, any thoughts?


	4. Mini Chapter 4

Heart pounding like the beating of a royal drum, Link realized what he had done. S_etting a demon loose in the wilderness?! What was I thinking?! The creature was probably hunting down some innocent child and killing her _right_ now. _

Link dashed forward, going along the trail as fast as he could. . A girlish scream sounded, and a deep animal roar followed. _It sounds like…..a giant boar? _ …_I wasn't thinking when I saved that demon and now people are going to die… _Guilt settled in his chest like an infection.

Not looking at the ground, his foot snagged on a root and Link lurched down, landing hard on the dirt and scraping his hands. _ Shitshitshit…_

Link wondered if the demon had somehow bewitched him. He was an A-class assassin. It shouldn't be possible. Years of training had guaranteed that his senses were always alert, that his mind was always razor sharp. He would've been dead by now if it wasn't.

The trail soon bended into the deep woods, ancient trees leaning down ominously. Leaves rotted on the mushy ground. The forest smelled of dying things and cold, crisp air.

He was going to _kill _Ghira. He should never have trusted him from the beginning.

Link could almost taste the blood on his tongue.

He heard another shriek from around the far corner, and felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, as if something enormous had just collapsed on the earth.

He sprinted, feeling the familiar liquid fire of exertion burn through his veins.

He rounded the corner, faster than wind.

Link couldn't believe what he saw.

* * *

A/N: I decided to write a super small chapter thingy because my computer broke and I won't be able to update for a month or so (sorrysorrysorry x((( ) Rest assured, I am always working on this fic, whether it be on comp or on paper. Oh, and to the person who asked what the ships in this fic were (thx for reviewing btw), I was thinking about making it ghiralink, but zelink is also possible... I guess it's gonna depend on reader feedback. See you in a month, and please review! it might make me update faster...


	5. Chapter 4

Precise, razor-sharp claws raked over the hard tree bark. Curly snow hair framed a condescending face and cascaded over bony shoulders.

"Where." The question was delivered like a statement, her voice rigid and cold. The young boy at her feet shuddered.

She studied him in icy detachment. The small human male was the only one brave –or stupid– enough to have answered her inquiries. "_A-a tall young man with pale hair..? I-I think I've seen one.." _His sisters had looked guiltily grateful when he spoke; she had seen no parents.

Perhaps they believed she would have slaughtered the whole lot if she didn't find what she wanted. Brave he must be, that young boy, and very dedicated to his family.

Unfortunately, that makes the chances of him actually knowing anything about her brother slightly below 15%.

The boy stared at her in a bright gaze. She arched an eyebrow. Was he unafraid? He had wild rust hair and dusty cheeks stained with a myriad of dirty substances. Bright amber eyes burned with the fiery of the sun, glaring at her ice irises.

The boy slid his gaze down to the sword at her hip. "Kill me. I know nothing." He bowed his head down, exposing a pale, untanned stripe of skin on his neck. She looked him up and down, analyzing the worth of his body. _Exotic, with a 70% chance of Gerudo descent. A fine specimen, he would sell for a fair price. _ Except she didn't need the money. Fear was a much better incentive than cash, and it would be a near insult to her kind if she did business with a human.

_But if he is truly a male Gerudo... _

Rare beyond belief, a Gerudo man was near priceless. Rumors were that they could perform incredible feats of the supernatural and their blood could be used for countless dark ceremonies. People of magic were extraordinarily valuable to demons. She could take what she wanted and leave him on the roadside, and –untrained, he was helpless against her.

The female had been silent long enough for the boy to shift uncomfortably. He dragged his gaze back up from the sword to stare at the demon's face. An artic hand seized his chin and forced his face upwards. Sharp nails dug trails of blood down his neck –_his blood is so hot it burns my hand –_andthe boy didn't even flinch.

Once more, fire clashed ice, indifference against passion, freezing eyes versus scorching ones.

"You are not ordinary, are you?" Her voice misted over him like a frosty breeze. He clenched his fist and pulled his face back to escape her clutch. "No, I am not." Magic swirled in his eyes—so much potential –and she wondered what was going on inside his head. Her analyzing tendencies kicked into overdrive.

There was over an 80% chance that his parents had died in the ongoing war at the South Wall, which would make him and his sisters orphans. He looked young, and she guessed his age to be no more than 15 at the most. An estimated 90% percent chance that he was unsatisfied and discouraged at the hand life had dealt him, which would give her a 70% gamble that his wishes could be to become better, more powerful.

She could see it; the boy had the most untapped strength, the purest ability that she had ever come across. The fact that such talent will likely never be used frustrated her to no end. She questioned his probable desire for more influence over his own life, and asked him so.

"If you are not ordinary, then why do you lead such an ordinary life? You _must _sense the power that you are capable of, and yet you refuse to use it. You are wasting approximately 94% of your latent ability. Don't you want more from life? "

The boy blinked rapidly and looked shocked, then very perplexed in response. His lips parted to speak. "It is the duty of a male to protect and support his family. My own desires are irrelevant compared to the safety of my blood." He told her that countless 'sorcerers' had offered to take him into apprenticeship, but they only wanted him, and not his sisters. Even after the death of his parents, he had refused them.

The woman raised an eyebrow. _Sacrificing himself for his family? _ It was such a shame, then. Those girls were nothing but garbage; one glance revealed strong minds but absolutely no potential for the supernatural. Unlike the boy before her, she could sense their selfish hearts and it pained her to gaze into their agonizingly typical soul. Like her brother, she treasured the unique.

It was obvious that this boy and those girls were not related by clearly didn't know that, and even if she told him, there was only an 8% chance he would believe her.

She needed power like he had. It didn't matter if his motivations were embarrassingly stupid, this was a sparkling golden opportunity and she would take advantage of it.

The boy had stood up while she was calculating her options. He cocked his head to the side, examining her with little trace of the fear that humans usually had. She swung her head to face him.

"Be my apprentice." With one finger, she traced the contours of his shoulder. "You possess power beyond measure, and tutelage with me will tap into that." The boy did not cringe from her touch, remaining still as a statue. "Your sisters will be cared for, all your needs met. You will no longer be forced to toil at the field for hours on end, or hide from officials because of your ethnicity. Life for you will be splendid, so long as you swear loyalty to my king and study with diligence."

He was silent; his face as still and as hard as carved stone.

She stepped back. "But should you refuse my generous offer,-"why_ was she sounding so dramatic? Her brother must be rubbing off on her. "— _I will wipe your memory of my proposal. You will continue to live the short and pathetic life of an immigrant, and perhaps there will come a time when your neighbors' greed sends you into the city to be executed for the crime of being a Gerudo. Surely you are not naïve enough to believe that you will be safe here forever."

Of course, she could just point her sword at his throat and bend his will. However…. the illusion of choice, of control over one's fate, would be the most effective means with this boy, whose turbulent life had always been decided by fate. "Nevertheless, the chance of your family dying is 60% higher should you reject my proposition."

The boy looked down, conflicting desires flitting in his eyes like leaves in a storm. A flicker of pain here, a memory there, the demon could read him like the scrolls in the library. The hurricane of doubt stilled, and settled.

She knew that she had won him over. The shine of his eyes were no less suspicious –_demons were tricky creatures_ –but his posture was straight and his gaze cast down respectfully.

The female offered her pale hand. He hesitated once, twice. Then their fingers interlocked, and she did not bother to hide the ferocious grin that stretched her cheeks.

* * *

A/N: Thankyou for reading! Please leave a review, :))) I haven't written the next chapter yet, but fear not, this story will NOT be abandoned.


	6. Chapter 5

Link's eyes were wider than saucers at the sight before him. A great, roaring boar was crashing through the forest, taking out its rage on nature. Enormous trees, trees older than his grandfather, shook and swayed to the mini earthquake it caused. The hog's colossal size dwarfed the white figure clinging to its back, long hair flying chaotically from side to side. Link crept around the edges of the area, careful to avoid the monstrous beast's attention.

_That thing isn't natural. _

Wild boars didn't grow that big. They didn't have glowing red eyes or those dark lines of black blood engraved on their flank. This must be a product of corrupted magic.

Link's hands instinctively moved to wield his sword, only to grab empty air. _Dammit…Ghira told me not to bring weapons….I bet he planned this all along. _Opposite Link in the clearing was a group of young children huddled into a cluster of terrified squeaks and frozen fear.

The air had the stink of sorcery –like burnt smoke and persimmons dried in the dying light of winter– and Link decided then that he would do all he could to stop Ghira from causing more damage. He had nothing but his bare hands and a will to fight, but that would have to do. The demon seemed to be on the brink of losing control over the creature; straining fingers barely clinging to its back through the violent thrashing.

_Serves him right! Scheming, deceitful demon._ Link thought hatefully. One of Ghira's daggers had slid to the ground. He could see the gleaming black glass in a pile of decaying leaves. Link dove down for it instantaneously, grinning victoriously when he reached it. His knife throwing skills weren't top of the class, but it was close enough that the master was confident Link could kill a target with a single throwing knife alone.

_Now…who to aim? _ He had one knife, and two foes. The demon….or the pig..? Both were flailing around so aggressively that they were a blur to the eyes. He swore –and a crazy idea suddenly occurred to him. Gripping the dagger between his teeth – he hoped Ghira cleaned it after gutting those animals, the thought of consuming raw blood was quite revolting –Link scaled the large tree quickly, utilizing all of his ninja skills.

The view from above was very different from the one below. For one, Link could see much farther and more detailed than before. Blood was dripping off the side of Ghira's head, darker than crimson. Link could see, now, that Ghira really wasn't trying to hold on at all. Instead, he seemed to be struggling to reach the boar's forehead, where a smoking rune was imprinted. _The source of its power perhaps? _

Was the demon trying to exterminate his failed creation?

The monster was almost directly under Link, and he prepared himself to jump. Mother _Farore bless your son. _

He leaped.

Ghira cried out at the hard impact of Link's body against his own, and soon found himself unable to breathe as the assassin locked his elbows around his throat.

"_Stop._ The. boar." Link's voice was icy steel. _My assassin voice. _ The demon shook his head and scrapped his nails against Link's arm, trying to dislodge himself.

Link only tightened his grip. "_Ghira."_ Ghira pointed feverishly at the boar's glowing forehead rune, eyes rolling back from lack of air. _So I was right. _Link thought grimly.

The demon's eyelids slowly lowered as his lips turned blue and his thoughts turned slow. Link was as chill about it as ever; killing people was part of his job. The pig worried him more than the demon.

They really made quite a sight: A young teenager choking the life out of a long haired albino demon on top of a raging giant pig in the middle of the woods. Link almost laughed at the thought. Down below, the terrified children were trapped as the boar demolished everything in sight. It was only a matter of time until someone was killed –if there wasn't someone dead already.

Link brandished his weapon, preparing to slit the demon's throat and end this madness. Ghira's eyes were exhausted and unfocused. As his knife came down, the boar suddenly stumbled and the two jerked sideways, blade drawing a harmless thin line of blood rather than a ragged fatal wound. As Link grunted in frustration and attempted to stab the demon to death instead, the hog crash landed on the ground and Ghira flew from his grasp.

_It is as if the goddesses will not let him die, _Link thought, abandoning the idea of murder and instead deciding to dispatch the beast first.

Leaving the demon on the ground, Link scaled the hog's back as it snorted and recovered from its fall. Sensing an intruder crawling on its head, the beast started swinging from side to side, nearly dislodging Link as his fingers slipped.

_It's heading for the town, _Link realized. With every breath, the monstrous hog edged closer and closer to the path Link and Ghira had taken. The result of such a beast laying havoc to the townspeople was…unthinkable.

With the knife again between his teeth, Link redoubled his efforts to reach the forehead, fueled by thoughts of blood and destruction. If ever there was a time he needed to succeed, it was now!

Drawing the blade from his lips, Link plunged it deep within its forehead, right between its delirious eyes. The rune glowed and pulsed, and the creature seemed to die instantly. It collapsed into a heap of flesh, and disintegrated into a million shards of black magic.

Then Link, as if guided by instinct from a past life, raised his weapon skywards and watched as the blade drew and absorbed the dark shards into its being like a magnet. He dropped the dagger to the ground with a tinge of shocked disgust.

Turning around, Link went to find the children. He sincerely hoped they were okay; his job may be murdering bad people, but inside he always fancied himself a savior of good people.

In his rush to get to the kids, he didn't notice a certain demon crawling away.

"Link!" A blonde child, looking to be no more than eight, jumped at the sight of the assassin. All the others looked at him with hope in their eyes. Was their nightmare finally over?

"Colin?" Link rushed to hold him, worry spilling over his lips. "Are you okay? What were you doing in the forest? Where's your mother? Does she know you're here?" There were tear tracks on the youngster's face, but his eyes burned bright as ever.

"Of course I'm fine. I'm _strong, _like you, Link. I'm a big boy now." Collin said as he moved aside for Link to see to his other friends. They needed his help more than Collin did. After attending to some minor injuries, Link helped the kids pack and get ready to send them home.

"Alright children, no more sneaking out and playing this deep in the forest, understand? It is very dangerous here, and I'm going to tell your mother." He was also going to give her his chicken soup recipe: there was no traumatizing experience that a good warm soup can't fix –except for one, but he didn't want to think about that.

The entire group set off for home, leaving behind the devastated forest clearing and the bad memories. Well, except for Link, he also left behind his demon and the weapon he used to absorb those weird magicky things. But it wasn't important, he was sure the authorities will take care of it.

* * *

"Sheik." The slim, uniformed figure was unresponsive. "Chief Officer Sheik!" A hand shook his shoulder gently. Sheik opened his eyes slowly and gave a subtle yawn. The sight of his easily agaited underling hovering over his couch (where he napped between watches) was a common view, nothing to worry about. The poor boy looked more scared than usual, though.

Sheik wondered what happened. _Probably another cockroach, _he thought with a snicker. The stupid kid often found embarrassingly stupid issues to present to his superior. This normally prompted a plethora of eye rolling and tolerant sighs. "What is it now, Fledge?"

"U-uh, we just got a report, sir." The timid boy stammered, curling in on himself and staring at the ground.

"And?" Sheik prompted for more information.

"There's been dark magic detected in the Ordon district-" Sheik bolted upright. "What?" He looked at the boy for confirmation of what he just heard. The boy nodded.

Sheik was off the couch in an instant, ideas and thoughts and concerns flying through his mind. Dark magic and just magic in general hasn't been witnessed for centuries. Why _now_? Why Why WHY does everything have to wrong on _his _watch _every damn _time? Sheik raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?! Are you a _retard_? DO YOU KNOW WHAT _DARK MAGIC_ IS?" The hairpulling intensified. His employ was idiotic, the soldiers are idiotic, and Sheik could swear the only person with any sense around here was him.

" W-we just received the-"Shut up. Pack the bags! I have to oversee this myself."

Sheik grabbed his weapons in a flurry, buckling down and wrapping up himself in the traditional sheikah bandages. As he worked, he called out to the boy. "Fledge, who is it that I am arresting tonight?"

Fledge paused in his packing to recall the name.

"Um. Link Wanderlust."

* * *

A/N: OOOOOOH YEA this chapter just practically wrote itself! I'm not amazing at writing action but damn I love the suspense ;)))) And now that we have a new character: SHEIK ma darling I've been so eager to write from his POV. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW IT GIVES ME ENERGY TO WRITE :) highschool just started and reading reviews make me happy enough to attend class


	7. Chapter 6

Link was peacefully resting from a long and exhausting day when they came. The fireflies were singing, the moon was glowing, and Link had a serene smile on his young face. It had been a quiet, drowsy night when three solid knocks sounded on his door. Shaken from his lethargic reverie, Link opened the door.

Three uniformed men stood stark against the moonlight –no longer comforting with its silver radiance –as Link realized who the men were. _Officers from the capital. _

He had heard of CastleTown, the beautiful Hyrulean capital that was the base of all operations –the assassin's guild included –but Link had never set foot there. CastleTown soldiers were well known for their disciplined vigilance, much more than all the other towns. Link knew that there was little chance of a quick, clean escape. He just had to hope his guild would arrive in time to stop whatever sentence they had for him. Assassins were employed by many, including the royals, so perhaps they would give him a free pass.

"Link Wanderlust?" One of the men, the foremost one, spoke up. He stood at the front of the group, authority radiating like an aura of power. A sharp black rapier hung from the belt at his waist.

Link swallowed nervously and nodded, his muscles coiled for action.

* * *

Sheik stared at the boy standing before him. So young, and so small…. It seemed unlikely that such a fresh face could be using black magic, the darkest and most sickening power in known history. Appearances were deceiving, Sheik reminded himself and pulled up next to the kid with his steel handcuffs.

The boy, Link, was backing slowly away, his hand creeping towards something behind the door. There was a flurry of movement and Sheik tensed. Suddenly, an extremely strong force plummeted towards Sheik as he ducked too late, and was thrown backwards onto the ground as a slim body flew past him, a smokebomb exploding into the night air. Momentarily distracted, he coughed from the gas and yelled, "I'm alright! Go after him!"

Chief Officer Sheik's disoriented men sprang into action, setting off after the sprinting silhouette into the dark. To escape the smoke, Sheik ducked through the open wood door and into his suspect's house. The dark wood felt cool beneath his fingers as he crawled through the doorway, coughing with smoke in his throat. He shut the door behind him, sitting on the ground and leaning against the cool surface, clutching his ribs painfully. He reached up to touch his face and his fingers came back wet with. _..Tears? _ That boy was no ordinary kid, to be capable of creating such an effective smoke bomb, especially one with gas toxic enough to coax tears from the stoic Sheikah police force.

Sheik stood up, silently thanking the goddesses for giving Sheikah the power of healing. His torso still ached from the young suspect's remarkably strong attack. Catching a dodging Sheik on the chest while throwing a bomb at the same time was an extraordinarily hard thing to do. The kid was dangerous, and no ordinary child.

Mouthing a spell that would ward against black magic, Sheik was prepared to leave when he felt it. A tiny tug of power, miniscule in its size but dark with evil. Entranced, he found it under an ordinary wood table. It radiated from a sliver of silver hair the length of his forearm, its end cut flat from a sharp blade. How….peculiar.

With gloved fingers, Sheik picked it up between his thumb and index finger and placed it inside a clear bottle he took out from his pocket. He examined it through the glass. It was so fine, and so light…like angel hair. But yet it had a roiling aura of such taint, such pure malevolence that he nearly gagged just looking at it.

Sheik pocketed the item and turned to leave, hoping that his dumb but well-trained subordinates had caught the truly interesting suspect.

He exited the little dwelling, straightening his uniform and closing his eyes to call upon his power. Sheik was a Chief Officer, one of the best and most proficient of the force and certainly the only high ranking member still able to sense life force. He always knew where everyone was, as long as they were alive. The sense was always there at the back of his head, muted pulsing like the beat of a heart.

They weren't very far away; it looks like the boy tired out real fast.

Sheik caught up to them hastily, approaching with all the authority of a leader. The teenager was slung up on one shoulder, his limp body still. "The suspect took three tranquilizer darts to the thigh, sir. He'll be out for a few hours."

Sheik nodded at the man who had talked, and watch them then walk away towards the portal that would transport all three back to the capital where the boy would be thrown in prison until questioning. _And oh, what an intriguing questioning it will be…_

* * *

Link startled awake, his heart jumping out of his chest. Wiping a trace of drool from his chin, the assassin shifted on his threadbare bunk to a sitting position. His thigh hurt like hell, a deep ache spreading throughout his left leg. _What's going on? Everything hurts. _The last thing he remembered was running away from those scary-looking police and then getting shot. _Ah, shit. I really fucked up didn't I. _Link buried his face in his hands. He was exhausted from fighting the giant boar and taking care of a demon, and now he had to deal with getting arrested by the Sheikah police. At least if he was going to escape, he could have put up a better fight goddamit!

He could've been home right now, wrapped up real cozy with a mug of pumpkin spice in one hand and a nice little book in the other. Link was willing to bet the military was after him because of that damned demon. If only he hadn't saved its sorry ass…

He was in a metal cell, soft light shining through the steel bars in rectangular patterns from the oil lamps on the opposite wall. His surroundings were all made of solid stone, moisture seeping through and mold growing on the dark edges. Link sighed at the sight and dug the heel of his hands into his eyes. From the moist earth, Link guessed he was deep underground and near a freshwater supply.

Link settled back into his hard bed and was about to go back to sleep when he heard it.

A strange, rhythmic humming was echoing off the rocks, strangely soothing and almost too quiet to hear. It sounded familiar, like how it did when Link heard it at the breakfast table with Ghira. Wait…

"Ghira?!"

A pair of glowing eyes appeared at the darkest corner of his cell.

"Ghira, what are you doing here? How are you... still alive? Please, you've got to get me out of here. I'm sorry I tried to–" A heavy backhand slap cut Link short. Link was shocked into silence, his lips bleeding and cheek stinging scarlet in the low light. The demon emerged from the inky shadows, white hair glittering coldly.

"You tried to _kill_ me." The spirit's voice was agonizingly soft, contrary to the explosion Link had been expecting. Even in the darkness he could see the look of utter betrayal on Ghira's face. Link bit his lip and looked down at his feet shrouded in shadow. Although his heart was practically invulnerable against the violence and anger he had anticipated from the demon, he was not prepared to be guilt tripped into feeling sorry. _Besides, what the hell did I even do wrong? I was just trying to rid the world of one more evil. _

Link slid back on his bed as the demon stalked forwards. His back pressed against the wall. "I –I,.. You're evil. You corrupted that boar in the forest, and then tried to kill those kids. You _should _be dead."

Two icy hands gripped his ankles.

"Is that really what you think? That I'm a murderous, malevolent, blood thirsty being whose only desire is to kill?" His grasp on Link's legs tightened. Soft, long hair tickled his thighs and hot breaths blew against his skin. Link's throat was suddenly very dry.

"I'll have you know that I found that boar lying helpless on the forest floor, begging for me to kill it, put it out of its misery." Ghira hissed, drawing his head up to glare at Link from between his legs. He abruptly rose from the ground to stare the teenager down. "I tried to heal it, but my magic was too dark. It corrupted the creature instead, and created that catastrophe you witnessed yesterday." He said somewhat regretfully, breaking their eye contact by covering his eyes with his hands. "My magic can't do anything but destroy, Link."

Link gulped and wriggled free from the demon's clutch on his leg. Both of them could already hear the sounds of distant footsteps approaching. Link wondered why the spirit hadn't killed him yet, as that was obviously what he came here to do. Ghira looked so tormented, standing above Link with his fingers hiding in his face in the semi-darkness. Was he going to kill Link? Save him? Leave him?

Soft lips suddenly pressed against his forehead, and Link's eyes widened in surprise.

"I don't know what I am, but it's not safe for anyone to be around me. Thank you for your hospitality in housing me, but I've caused far too many problems for you. Goodbye skychild. Goodluck. " Ghira turned from Link and walked away, disintegrating into the shadows as he sat there dumbfounded. _Man, talk about mood swings…_ The spirit's kiss burned like a scar on his skin, and Link rubbed the spot furiously to rid himself of the confusion.

The booted footsteps finally came to a stop right outside his cell, a long shadow of a man casted against the soft light. Link looked up from his misery on his cot. The man's figure was sharp and strong.

"Wake up, Link Wanderlust. It is time to begin interrogation."

* * *

A/N: whew..! thank you so much for putting up with my sporadic updates :) critiques, comments, everything is welcome in the review section! :3


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